


Lay me down

by ShyAudacity



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Depression, Derek Hale Cooks, Hurt/Comfort, Isaac is back from france, Minor Violence, Oblivious Scott, Pack Meetings, Platonic Cuddling, Self-Esteem Issues, Stiles Has Issues, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-08-21
Packaged: 2018-04-16 12:52:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4625997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShyAudacity/pseuds/ShyAudacity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was almost out the door. Stiles was so close to slipping away without anything else possibly changing his mood. Then his Dad stopped him on the way down the stairs. Just trying to ask him where he was going, then he said:</p><p>“Are humans even allowed at pack meetings?”</p><p>OR</p><p>Stiles is having a bad day.</p><p>Edit: The original and the sequel are now all one story, NEW ENDING. (11/22/15)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lay me down

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote while I was having an off day. Yeah... okay keep reading if you want. Leave a comment if you liked it :)

It’s been a particularly slow day, and not a very good one either. The slow days usually turn into hard days for Stiles, he doesn't like it. Mostly because he has more of them then one should. Instead of having one every couple of months, they have started happening a couple of times a month.

People keep saying things. Just little things that he shouldn’t let bother him, but he does. Minor digs at his appearance or his grades, which aren’t bad, but they aren’t as good as they used to be either. He’s been struggling a lot lately, and it doesn’t help that it’s his senior year. Stiles knows he needs to stay on top things. He just can’t get a grip on what’s happening around him. But it’s Friday, which means there’s a pack meeting tonight, so he’s hoping maybe that will cheer him up.

He was almost out the door. Stiles was so close to slipping away without anything else possibly changing his mood. Then his Dad stopped him on the way down the stairs. Just trying to ask him wear he was going, then he said:

“Are humans even allowed at pack meetings?”

Stiles knows he shouldn’t be offended, his dad didn’t mean anything by it. He’s still trying to understand all of the things that come with being involved in the supernatural side of the world. The Sheriff is getting there, but the statement still bothers Stiles. The sentence replays in his head on the drive to Derek’s loft.

By the time he gets there he’s already late. Not overly late, but late enough that he has a text from both Scott and Derek asking where he is and if he’s still coming. He pulls the door open to the loft and something has already started. Stiles wouldn't call it a pack meeting… but he wouldn't call it a party either.

“What are you guys doing?” Stiles asks.

Liam and newly returned Isaac are sparing in the back corner of the room while Scott coaches Liam through the fight. Lydia is sitting next to Malia on the couch, text books spread out in front of both of them. Derek stands watch by the bar, a new addition to the makeshift kitchen he had put into his loft.

“We got tired of waiting.” Isaac says, dodging a swing from Liam. “So we decided to take the night off.”

 _Of course they got tired of waiting._ Stiles thinks to himself. _No point in waiting for the only human in the pack._

Stiles sighs and throws his keys down on the bar. He plops down into a chair then runs his hands over his face.

“You want something to eat?” Derek asks. “I made pasta.”

Derek didn’t have to tell him that, Stiles could smell it before he had even opened the door. The aroma of tomatoes, ground beef and spices reminded him of his mother. Her pasta was Stiles’ favorite dish as a kid. He’d tried making it like hers, but he could never the sauce to taste right.

He shakes his head. “No. I’m not really hungry.”

It wasn’t a complete lie. As of lately his appetite had left him. He knew that being on Adderall affected his eating habits, but this was different. The idea of food made him feel gross. He didn’t want to eat most days, and he really only ate when he thought he could keep something down. Even then, it wasn’t much more than an apple or a granola bar and some water. He knew that it wasn’t healthy what he was doing, but he didn’t know what else to do.

Derek ignored his reply and pushed a plate in front of his face. “Eat something.”

Stiles looked down at the plate and his skin crawled with anxiety. He couldn't refuse it or Derek would know that something is wrong. He picked up a fork and pushed the food around on his plate. _Just eat it you idiot_ he said to himself. Stiles looked up at Derek who was piling more pasta onto a different plate. He sighed and quickly shoved a forkful of the food into his mood. It was good, not as good as his mothers, but still good. Stiles told himself to chew, if he just kept chewing then it would be over sooner and he could stop eating. He swallowed once, not so bad. He could keep doing this.

He forced another mouthful in even though his body was protesting. He tried to swallow but he had a lump in his throat. He felt like he was choking, but there was nothing to choke on. He balled his hands into fists until his knuckles went white.

“Stiles?” Derek said cautiously.

Stiles shook his head and gripped at the counter top. He wanted to swallow but his body wouldn't follows its commands. He coughed once, then again, before he knew it he had spit out the food in his mouth and back onto his plate. Derek came around the other side of the bar, glass of water in hand.

“No- no I’m okay.” He said pushing away the glass.

Derek put the water down and laid a gentle hand Stiles’ back. He ran his fingers up and down his spine.

“You alright, kid?”

Stiles nods. “Yeah, yeah my stomach just isn’t agreeing with me today. I’ll be fine in a minute.” He states. Derek nods then walks away.

Stiles pushed his plate away, put his head down on the counter top and sighed. He felt like crying, or at least like he should be crying. He hated feeling like this, he always ended up feeling bad about himself. He sighed again and his lungs protested. There wasn’t enough air for him to breathe in this room, despite the size of the room.

He darted off to the bathroom and shut the door. Twisting the tap water on, he tried to drown out the sound of his friends. All of them enjoying themselves and having a good time. He couldn't just enjoy himself anymore. He looked at himself in the mirror, his skin pale against the overhead lighting.

_I don’t even look like myself anymore._

The door opened suddenly and Isaac stood there in the doorway.

“Oh- crap, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were in here.”

Stiles waved a hand at him. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you alright?” Isaac asked, squeezing his shoulder.

“Yeah, just don’t feel too hot, I’ll be out in a minute.” He waited for Isaac to leave before he did anything else. He looked back at himself in the mirror. _Nothing…absolutely nothing._ He shook his head, ran some water over his face, then left the small bathroom.

He wishes he hadn’t heard it. He wishes he could magically stop the sound waves before they get to his ears. But he can’t. He had reached the opening of the hallway when he heard Isaac say:

“Has he always been that bony?”

He stops where he is. He can feel his heart racing like a jack rabbit in side of his chest, trying to force itself out of his body. He does nothing. Just stands and listens to Isaac say those words. Those words that make Stiles’ heart sink. He breathes deeply, telling himself not to overreact. He reminds himself that these people are his friends, his _pack,_ and that they wouldn’t purposefully try to hurt him.

He steps out into the room, making his presence known by coughing lightly. Derek and Isaac both turned to look at him.

Derek steps towards him. “You alright?”

Stiles just shrugs and forces himself not to back away as Derek lays a hand at the nape of his neck. After a light squeeze and a small nod, Derek takes a step back.

“Hey.” He bellows, it catches everyone’s attention. “Change of plans. Tell your parents you aren’t coming home, we’re having a movie night.”

Stiles closes his eyes, drops his head to his chest and sighs.

 _I just want to go home and sleep until my problems go away._ He’s so tired. This day has been too long for him. If he could, right now, he would wrap himself in a blanket and just stay there. Everything that has happened today weighs heavily on his heart. An arm slinks around his shoulder and he snaps his head up. Isaac.

“You’re staying for the movie night, aren’t you?”

“I-I don’t know. I kind of wanna leave.” He mumbles looking down at his feet.

“Please stay?” he slides his hand down to grab Stiles’ wrist. “I haven’t gotten to see you much since I got back from Europe. I missed hanging out with you guys. So… please stay? Just for a little while? You don’t have to stay if you really don’t want to.”

 _One movie never killed anybody. I can sit through one movie._   

Stiles looks up at Isaac and nods. “Okay… I’ll stay.”

Isaac’s smile beams and Stiles instantly regrets his decision. Regardless, he lets Isaac lead him to the couch and sit down. A mass amount of blankets and pillows have been brought into the living room and set up around Derek’s TV and in front of the couch. Scott, Liam, Malia and Lydia made themselves comfortable on the floor. Derek sat on the floor in front of Stiles.

Stiles saw what he was doing. He’d seen Scott do it plenty of times before. Derek’s hanging around Stiles to make sure he doesn’t do something drastic or have a meltdown. He wouldn’t do this if he didn’t think that there’s something wrong with Stiles.

Stiles looked down, he ran the hem of his shirt between his thumb and index finger. He still felt shitty, the worst thing was he didn’t know how to stop it. Stiles wishes he could just turn it off, then his issues would be cut in half. He nearly leaps off the couch at the feeling of a hand on his back.

“Sorry,” Isaac says, “I didn’t mean to scare you, you just seemed distracted. Are you alright?”

_No. I feel like my life is falling apart and I don’t know how to stop feeling like this please do something._

“I uh… um I- just tired.” He stammers.

He nods. “I understand.”

He looks at Isaac, trying to figure out why he’s being so nice to him. But nothing comes to him. So he rests his head on Isaac’s shoulder as the movie plays, and tells himself that he’s just going to close his eyes for a minute.

When he opens his eyes again, he nearly panics while trying to remember where he is. Then, everything comes back to him. The pack meeting, choking in front of Derek, Isaac being sympathetic during the movie.   

 _Calm down you big baby. You're overreacting._ He takes in his surroundings. Stiles notices that he’s now lying down on the couch, and someone has their head on his chest. Isaac. How he managed to fit both of them on the already too small couch is beyond Stiles. Yet, it makes him anxious. He hasn’t been this intimate with someone in a long time, and he’s not sure how to react.

Isaac stirs in his sleep, and Stiles holds his breath. Isaac looks up at him in the dark. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

“N-no, no I was awake.” Stiles rambles.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah…”

“Are you sure?”

“…No.” Stiles answer. He realizes that that was his life. Constantly saying that he was okay even if he wasn’t sure of his own well-being. He didn’t like to think about it because it just made him feel worse than he already did.

Isaac brings a hand to let it rest on Stiles’ chest. “I’m sorry that you feel shitty.”

Tears prick at the crease of his eyes and leak into his ears before he has the chance to wipe them away. Stiles closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Don't worry about it, Isaac. I’m just having a bad day.”

                                                    ******************************************************************************

When Stiles wakes up in the morning, he’s still on the couch, but his feet are where his head used to be, which confuses him slightly. He’s also alone, but he doesn’t question that, he can hear muffled voices from somewhere nearby. The sunlight from the window is shining in his eye, so he curls onto his side more and covers his face with his arm.

Stiles hears the sound of footsteps and a squeak of metal. The sound of footsteps gets closer to him. The couch dips near his legs, and he knows that he’s not alone any more. A firm hand comes to rest of his waist, just below where his ribs are. Whoever the hand belongs to squeezes, their fingers gripping his ribcage. Stiles stays still, afraid of what might happen next.

“What are you doing to yourself, kid?” Derek says in a whisper, like he knows that Stiles can hear him. He leaves a few seconds later, Stiles is alone again. He wants to cry, and he’s sure he would if he were anywhere else in the world right now.  

_There’s no point in getting upset, Derek doesn’t like me anyways._

So he sits up, rubs his hands over his face, and stands. When his muscles protest, he groans. Quietly, he makes his way towards the door, attempting to duck out without being seen. Yet, much like the night before, he can’t get away fast enough.

“Stiles?”

He turns around, Isaac stands a few feet behind him. His hair a curly, disheveled mess and a too big white t-shirt hanging limply on him. “Hey, Isaac.”

“Hey, sorry about moving you. I was just trying to get up without waking you, I hope you don’t mind.”

“On no, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” Stiles mumbles.

“Are you leaving?”

“Uh…I um- I was thinking about it.”

“Oh. Well everybody else left about an hour ago, but Derek made breakfast if you want to eat something before you go.” Isaac says, gesturing towards the kitchen.    

“N-no thanks, I’m not that hungry.”

“I find that hard to believe.” Derek says, emerging from the hallway. He crosses his arms over his chest.

“Derek-.”

“What is he talking about?” Isaac asks.

“Nothing, it’s not important.” Stiles says quickly. He turns to leave. “I’ll see you guys later.”

“Stiles-.”

“What? What, Derek? What do you want?” Stiles says in a loud voice, whipping around harshly.

Surprised, Derek takes a step back, almost nervous to say something else that might set Stiles off. “Uh- you know what, never mind, it can wait.”

Stiles sighs, gives the two wolves a sad look, then walks out of the loft.

“Is he okay?” Isaac asks.

“No,” Derek replies. “He’s not, he just won’t admit it.”

                                                                                                                     *************************************  

Stiles gets to his jeep, and gets in with a frustrated huff. He doesn’t really want to go home, but he can’t stay here either. Sticking his keys in the ignition, he tries to start his jeep. Nothing, nothing happens. He turns it over again and again and nothing happens. Roscoe won’t start.

“C’mon, not today.” He mutters to himself. He tries again, nothing.

He gets out of his car. He kicks the front tire once for good measure. Then he pulls his phone out to call his Dad, but the battery is dead. Stiles lets out an angry grunt and sails his phone across the parking lot, not caring that the screen is most definitely shattered. Half fuming, he walks back inside, not wanting to stay outside anymore.

_No phone. No car. Nothing, I have nothing… maybe I am nothing._

Before he realizes it, he’s standing in the doorway of the loft, and Derek is looking at him like he’s waiting on an answer.

“What?”

“I asked if you needed something, are you alright?”

“You know I really wish that people would stop asking me that.” Stiles said, frustrated.

“Well what do you want me to do?”

“Nothing!” he yells. “I don’t want you to do anything. God, I just wish everyone would leave me alone for five minutes.”

_I feel terrible and I don’t want to be alone right now. Please do something._

“Stiles, the anxiety is coming off of you in waves, talk to me. I wanna help you.” Derek says putting his hands up defensively.

“I don’t need your help, Derek.”

“Well something is obviously wrong, just talk to me.”

“Shut up.” Stiles says tightly.

“No, now just-.”

“I said shut up.” Before he realizes what he’s doing, Stiles throws his fist upward and nails Derek in the jaw. Both of them stumble backwards, slightly stunned.

“Do it again.”

Stiles doesn’t have to be told twice. He hits Derek everywhere, his shoulder, his chest, and his cheekbone. Over and over again, pounding his fists against Derek’s body in an angry fashion. One for what his father had said. One for Scott not noticing that he was having a bad day. One because he hated feeling this way, and many more just for the hell of it. The whole time, Derek simply stands there and takes it.

A few minutes’ later Stiles steps back again, knuckles bruised and hands shaking from exertion. He breathes heavily as he watches Derek, his body already healing the bruises that Stiles left on his skin. Derek wipes his hand over his mouth, taking with him a trail of blood from where he bit through his lip.

_I just beat up Derek Hale…what have I done?_

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Derek says, stepping forward.

“I’m sorry.” Stiles says shaking his head, voice cracking.

“It’s okay. I’m not mad at you…its okay.”

Stiles opens his mouth, but all that comes out is a quiet whimper. When his face falls, Derek steps forward again and wraps himself around Stiles. One hand on the back of his neck and the other arm around his waist. He holds the teen like it’s the only thing that is going to keep him upright. Stiles stands there, knees trembling, crying silently into Derek’s chest.

_I’m crying in front of Derek, I’m such a freaking mess._

Stiles gripped Derek’s shirt in his hands, ignoring the ache in his knuckles. He mumbled out something that was supposed to sound like some sort of an apology. Derek just shushed him.

“This isn’t you, Stiles.” Derek said quietly in Stiles’ ear.

_I know… but I don’t know how to turn it off._


End file.
